


Obsession

by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)



Series: Halloween 2k14 Prompt Fills [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, M/M, Obsession, Stalking, Stiles/Other (background)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 09:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2542433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/HaleHole
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles waits for Derek to close the door before saying, “I think I’ve got a stalker.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsession

Stiles waits for Derek to close the door before saying, “I think I’ve got a stalker.”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles notes Derek stiffening. Across the table, his dad frowns. “What makes you say that?” 

 

He swallows but it does nothing to soothe his dry throat. The Sheriff and Deputy wait for him to answer. “Just a feeling. I keep. I keep feeling like I’m being watching. I’m pretty sure someone keeps breaking into my apartment. It’s small stuff like, my stuff being moved around. First time I thought I was just… like  _I’d_  forgotten where I’d put my mug. But then my clothes were rearranged and I just… knew.”

 

"Rearranged?" The Sheriff asks.

 

Stiles nods. “Yeah. They’d pulled out all of Eli’s clothes. Dumped them in the trash.”

 

"Have you told Scott about this?" Derek asks, brows furrowed in worry. 

 

He sighs and nods. “Yeah. I asked him to, you know, sniff around for a scent but he didn’t catch anything. So either the perp knows how to cover their scent or-“

 

"It’s someone you know." The Sheriff finishes grimly.

 

A cold shiver runs down Stiles’ spine. It’s like someone dropped an ice cube down his shirt. He bites his lip and nods. “I told Eli to take his stuff and move back to his place. I was scared me might be a target.”

 

The Sheriff shoots Derek a meaningful look. Derek nods. “I’ll keep an eye on him. Make sure nothing happens to him.”

 

Stiles gives the werewolf a grateful smile. “Appreciate that.”

 

"It’s part of the job." Derek says but he smiles back.

 

—

 

It’s been three weeks since he’s told his dad and Derek and nothing has changed. If anything, Stiles’ life has gotten worse. The first blow had been the fact that, legally, the police could do nothing.

 

"We don’t have anyone to pin anything on." His dad had sadly explained. "The most we got right now is breaking and entering on this guy. And we can’t charge him until we know who he is."

 

He tells Stiles to stay vigilant, be careful and to change his locks. Get a better security system. The last one had been Derek’s advice. Stiles follows through on all of them. But it does not deter his stalker.

 

Stiles arrives home to find things just slightly off. The keys bowl is on the wrong side of the table. His dirty clothes are in the laundry basket instead of dirty piles on the floor. A few of his hoodies and t-shirts are missing. The picture of him and Eli is in the trashcan, glass broken and Eli’s face scratched out. Fear sinks into his stomach at the sight of that. 

 

He calls Eli immediately after finding the broken picture frame. Only to receive a busy tone. Stiles calls over and over again, desperate to make sure his boyfriend is okay. Five minutes later, he manages to reach Eli. Stiles sighs in relief. After a brief conversation, where Eli reassures Stiles that he is alright, they hang up.

 

It turns out to be the last time he talks to the man.

 

Stiles sits numb on his couch, feeling like he’s watching the scene from behind a glass booth, listening to Derek gently explain what had happened. Shortly after hanging up, Eli had made a quick run to the grocery store. On his way back he’d been hit by a drunk driver.

 

That had been ten days ago. They’ve yet to find the culprit who had sped off after the accident. Eli’s presently in the critical care unit, hooked up to so many machines he looks more like a robot than human.

 

And the feeling of being watched has increased. 

 

He’s gotten the locks changed thrice now. Called the security company Derek had recommended him and asked them to come in and install cameras (but that’ll take another week). He sleeps with a baseball bat next to him. Well. Stiles  _tries_ to sleep. Every small sound in the dark sounds like a foot step, making it impossible for Stiles to fall asleep.

 

"You look like shit." Derek points out.

 

Stiles blinks at the sight of the Deputy, walking across the hospital parking lot to lean against his car. “I feel like shit.” He sighs, pressing his arm on the car roof. “What’re you doing here?”

 

"Here to pick you up." Derek replies, leaning over to throw the passenger side door open. "Get in."

 

He’s so tired he doesn’t question the man. Stiles quietly walks around and slips into the open seat. “You’re gonna stay with me tonight.” Derek continues as soon as Stiles slams the door shut. “Your dad said a change of place might help you get some rest.”

 

It’s a true testament to how tired Stiles is that he doesn’t argue this. He just sags in relief. “Thanks dude.”

 

"Don’t call me dude." Derek drawls, taking a hand off the steering wheel to playfully push Stiles away. 

 

He laughs and wonders when’s the last time he laughed? It feels like he hasn’t felt this good, this safe, in years. Logically he knows it’s been weeks but that’s how it feels. After days upon days of hyper vigilance, Stiles finally lets his guard down. Before he knows it, Stiles falls asleep.

 

The next time he wakes up, he’s in Derek’s bed. Stiles squints in the dark before reaching out to turn the lamp on. “Derek?” He calls out once, looking at the open doorway. 

 

There’s no response.  _'Where is he…_ ' Stiles wonders, sliding out of bed. He shives immediately. Belatedly he realizes he's in his underwear. Stiles flushes as he imagines Derek stripping him before putting him to bed. Where the heck did Derek put his clothes…

 

As his eyes sweep over the room, his eyes fall on Derek’s cupboard door, which is open an inch. Surely Derek wouldn’t mind if he borrowed some of his clothes right? They’ve known each other for years! What’s a little clothes sharing between friends.

 

Stiles walks over to the cupboard, rubbing his hands over his arms in a poor bid to stay warm. He throws the door open and examines his choices. Geh. So much black. Stiles rummages through the items, pulling a pair of sweats out before sliding them on. All he needs now is a top.

 

He makes a delighted noise when he pulls out a dark hoodie. “Awesome.” Stiles sighs, slipping it on.

 

He hears a door click open, followed by a loud jangle of keys. “Stiles? You up? I got dinner!”

 

The thought of food has Stiles bounding out. “Hey! What did you get?”

 

"Chinese." Derek holds the bag up. He pauses and stares at Stiles, eyes widening.

 

Stiles chuckles self consciously, “I borrowed some of your clothes. Hope it’s alright.”

 

Derek shakes his head. “No, of course it is. Why don’t you get the stuff out. I need to wash up.”

 

Nodding, Stiles walks into the kitchen while Derek heads to the bathroom. He eyes the receipt stuck to the bag and cringes. Yowtch! He needs to pay Derek back for this somehow. Stiles tears the piece of paper off, crumples it into a ball and sticks it into his hoodie pocket.

 

Which already has something in it.

 

Stiles frowns and pulls the crumpled piece of paper out. It looks like a receipt as well. He unfolds it and immediately goes cold. It’s a receipt from the local bakery - two donuts and a coffee to go. It’s  _his_. Stiles remembers this receipt well because he’s scribbled a note to himself on the back.

 

His own words stare back at him. Stiles feels like the Earth is sinking away under his feet. It’s a coincidence. It has to be. He must have forgotten his hoodie at Derek’s.  _'You haven't been here in over three months. You got this hoodie just a month ago.'_  His brain reminds him.

 

Before Stiles knows it, he’s racing to Derek’s closet and digging through it like a mad man. He finds  _everything_  he thought he’d lost and then some. Stiles stands in the middle of the gathering storm, hands shaking as he begins to connect the dots. 

 

It’s Derek.

 

His stalker is  _Derek_.

 

The realization is echoing in his head when he hears the bedroom door creak open. 


End file.
